


Gilded

by afewmistakesago



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Historical AU, belle works for gold, both fall hard and fast, maid/employer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-16 20:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4639446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afewmistakesago/pseuds/afewmistakesago
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mr. Gold needs a new housekeeper, the quiet maid with hope in her eyes is his first choice. As Belle works her hardest to do her job, she's distracted with his complex career and the multiple layers to his life's story. Belle finds herself falling for him, but knows she must keep up appearances as not to lose her position in his household.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Library

Pink uniform in the morning, black uniform at night. Up before the sun, and quick to sleep as soon as the day’s work was over. Such was the life of Belle Victoria French as a housemaid for the Vanderbilt family. It was a strict routine, but easy enough for her to follow. She was quiet and unseen by the Vanderbilt family, just the way her employer liked. It was the preference of any good maid to obey her employer’s every demand. Belle moved swiftly through her assignments, accomplishing them diligently as her mind wandered in other directions. It was easy to tell she was a day dreamer, hoping for adventure, but she had accepted what life had given her with a gracious grin.

It was another day in the Vanderbilt house, and the heated kitchen was buzzing even more than normal. Belle was fixing her hair, tucking away the stray strands that had escaped her. One of the scullery maids, Ashley, snapped at Belle to get a move on. She got on her way quickly, taking one of the servant’s passageways to get to her lady’s room. Cornelia Vanderbilt had departed for a day trip out with a new potential suitor, and Belle tidied her room to be in perfect condition for her return.

After that, it was on to a sitting room, then to the bowling alley, and then to several guest bedrooms. It was hard work, but at the end of the day, Belle had a bed to rest on, and that was more than some had. The extra hum of the help was due to the imminent arrival of several guests- the most important being William Gold. Belle wasn’t sure of his occupation, really, other than hearing some whispers that he was one of the richest men to move to America in months. She had heard he was called “The Crocodile” for his charming smile and quick wit, and someone told her he was feared due to his power in his homeland of Scotland. It seemed to Belle that everyone was either very rich or very poor, and she knew she’d never encounter Mr. Gold, so it hardly mattered to her that he would be in one of their guest rooms for the next few nights.

The next days passed with their usual ease, and Belle had almost forgotten about the gaggle of visitors until their last day at the estate. She was in the library, which was her very favorite room to clean. She often tried to finish as quickly as possible to allow herself a few moments to skim the pages of one of the many books in the room. Mr. Vanderbilt had thousands of novels, many in languages she couldn’t understand, but each told a different story and any good story captivated Belle. Her deepest wish was to travel, and through the books she secretly borrowed, she could.

Belle was just stroking the soft binding of a particularly large volume when she heard footsteps behind her. She jumped away from the shelf, quickly turning to leave the room as soon as possible. She didn’t recognize the man who was now in the center of the room, but she didn’t have to look twice to know he was more important than she was.

“You can stay,” she heard. Belle paused in the door frame, turning slightly. The man’s voice wasn’t from around these parts - he must be one of the foreign visitors. He was dressed smartly, head to toe in black, as if he was in mourning.

“I said, you can stay,” he said, stepping forward a bit. Belle nodded dumbly, stepping back into the room and staring at the floor. She didn’t know who this man was or what he wanted.

“Fascinating, isn’t it?” he asked, spreading his hands out and looking at all the books. “So many books. How could one person ever read them all?”

Belle lifted her head from her gaze at his shoes, looking at him. His expression changed, one that indicated he was waiting for her to speak. She noticed he was learning on a cane, and the handle was detailed and ornate. If she had more time, she would’ve studied it closer, and if she was one to speak any thought that was on her mind, she would’ve asked what he needed it for.

“I - I don’t suppose I know,” she said quietly, finally.

“But you like to read?” he inquired, stepping towards her. The light from the window was obscuring his face from her, but she could tell he had long hair and sharp features. Belle nodded slowly. She knew she shouldn’t be talking to this man, but he was asking her questions. She knew only to speak when spoken to, and he was very clearly speaking to her. “I love to read,” she replied honestly.

He broke out into a grin. “We share a common interest.”

Belle faltered, unsure of how to reply. She nodded again, curtsying as she tried to leave before he called again for her to return. “Weren’t you going to take a book?” he asked, looking at the shelf she had been admiring. “This one?”

He pulled down the exact book she had been about to borrow, and winked at her before gently tossing it into her empty hands. “It’s our secret, Miss….”

“French,” she replied. “Miss French. And thank you, Mr. -”

“Gold. Mr. Gold,” he finished for her. “It was nice to meet you.”

Belle felt dizzy as she finally retreated away from the library. That was Mr. Gold? He wasn’t fearsome, nor did he seem to be a crocodile. He seemed slightly eccentric, and perhaps too kind if he had made polite conversation with the hired help. It was neither here nor there, and he would be gone in the morning. She needn’t share her encounter with anybody.


	2. Study

“I don’t think you understand what I’m asking,” William Gold pushed, walking around the desk and staring at Mr. Vanderbilt with a determined gaze. He hadn’t come to the Biltmore just to envy the man’s luxurious home. Everything had a price - nobody’s time was free.

“You’re mad, Gold. What you’re asking, it’s impossible,” Cornelius insisted, staring at the opposing man with a look of incredulousness. A strike of lightning caused both men to pause from their heated conversation, glancing out one of the many windows at the darkening clouds.

“Looks like I’ll be here for a while more,” Gold mused lightly, tapping his fingers on top of his cane. “It’ll give you time to reconsider.”

“Gold, I’m sorry about what happened to-”

“Don’t say their names!” Gold said, slamming his hand on the fine oak desk in front of him, “Don’t you dare say their names!”

Vanderbilt swallowed, looking Gold up and down. “I wonder if it’s true, what they whisper about you.”

“And what do they whisper?” Gold snapped.

“That you’ve gone mad, among other things,” he replied simply.

Gold paused for a moment, then scoffed. “If I was mad, would I be here? Certainly a mad man has other things to do then ask an old friend for help.”

Vanderbilt shook his head. “Please be careful, William. Don’t be foolish.” He rose from his chair, headed towards one of the dining rooms. “I do hope you’ll join me for dinner later. I’ll leave you with some time to… cool off.”

With that, William Gold was left alone with his thoughts in one of the Biltmore’s many studies. He whirled around, wishing he was in his own home so he could crush something in his own hands. He could break something here, of course, and fix it before anyone noticed, but there was no way to mask the noise and there were far too many busy little worker bees to attempt it. Nobody understood what he wanted, nobody understood why it was so important that what needed to be done was done.

Speaking of workers, the maid he had met the previous day had reappeared in his mind. She had said her name was Miss French, and she was a tiny little thing with a look in her eyes that made her stand out from the other workers. She was beautiful, and she didn’t know it. Far too many women knew they were beautiful, wearing it as a showy badge, but Miss French was beautiful in a hushed way. Just as William was going to leave the room, that very girl bumped into him. She jumped back, apologizing profusely, her face turning red as she turned to go in the opposite direction.

“Miss French,” he said, and she turned back to face him. “Was that book any good?”

She paused at his question, avoiding his gaze as she set her basket of cleaning supplies down. “No time to start it,” she replied, shifting nervously on her feet.

“And how does someone who wants to read very large chapter books wind up working as a servant?” he asked. “Pardon my curiosity.”

“It’s no matter,” she said with a shrug. “My father made some bad investments, gambled and drank away what was left. This was my best option,” she finished with a half-shrug, half-smile. Her eyes sparkled when she smiled, even though she looked tired.

Gold nodded, and she began to turn away, when he spoke again. “Send your wages to your family, do you?”

Miss French met his gaze for the first time, nodding. “I left university to work, to support my father and sister, yes.”

“That’s very kind of you,” he said lightly. “It’s unfortunate that our lives don’t always work out how we planned them to. I’ve experienced that first hand, you see.”

She looked like she wanted to snicker at that, probably laughing that someone of his status would think his life wasn’t fair. Miss French’s smirk was quick to leave her face, and she quickly replied, “Life is what you make it.” She shrugged then, exiting the study. He stepped out into the hall, seeing her give a quick half glance back at him.

William hadn’t met many people in the service industry with Miss French’s quiet spirit. She seemed to have a lot to say, an independent streak. His own housekeeper, Aurora, was a lovely and skilled girl but she had mostly kept to herself. Until, of course, she kept with the gardener and fell pregnant. He’d dismissed her and the offending gardener, which effectively cleared half of his staff. A young man named Daniel ran his stables, and the Nolan’s, a young couple, ran his kitchen together and lived in a small cottage at the end of his property. Their relationship didn’t bother him, it was the secrets that did.

There were always secrets.

Nevertheless, he’d need a new gardener and housekeeper upon his return.  A man named Jefferson had approached him earlier in the year about a position on the property, and he’d extend an invitation upon his arrival back home. The garden could go unkept for a while. His home was much smaller and less ostentatious than this one, and a Vanderbilt housekeeper would be far underwhelmed with his estate. But perhaps the head housekeeper wouldn’t mind losing an employee.

It was foolish, wasn’t it, to think about hiring Miss French because of a few stolen words, when he didn’t even know her first name? She had to reply to his questions, of course, but it wasn’t the typical “yessirs” and “no sirs” and “don’t rightly know, sirs” he normally got when he approached the hired help. Miss French might not even want to move from her current job. William decided to leave it to fate. If he saw Miss French again before the storm ended and he could leave the Biltmore, he would ask about her returning with him to his home. If he didn’t, he’d simply have the Nolan’s pick someone for him.

 


	3. Garden

          Things seemed to happen to Belle in threes. Be it happy things, sad things, or strange things, it was always three. She shouldn’t have been surprised to see Mr. Gold again, but she caught her breath as he passed her in the garden. It was a beautiful day after a week of rain clouds and thunderstorms, so it was no wonder he’d be out and about.

            He smiled as he passed by with an elegantly dressed woman she didn’t recognize, his gold tooth flashing in the sunlight. The look on his face was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, and he rounded the corner as she stepped out of the way. Something in her stomach clenched, and she looked away from his passing figure. He made her uneasy in a way she couldn’t yet find words to describe, but for all the talk of shouting with Mr. Vanderbilt, he had been kind to her.

Belle was taking the long way to get back to her quarters, admiring the flowers when she was positive nobody that would get her in trouble was around. She’d spent her day off mostly in her room, writing letters to her sister and father (though she wasn’t sure they read them), reading, and now stretching her legs in the estate garden. “What are you doing in my garden?” a voice asked playfully, and Will Scarlett popped around the corner holding a pair of shears. “I should punish you,” he warned, snipping the shears together menacingly.

            Belle rolled her eyes. “You couldn’t hurt a kitten, Will.”

            Will blushed, scratching his shaved head. “‘Reckon you’re right. Is it your day off then, love?” he asked, setting his shears down next to a flower bed.

            “Indeed it is. Thought I’d take a quick walk through the gardens,” Belle said quietly, looking around again. “Just you out today? No George?”

            “Nah, he’s over that way,” said Will, pointing to a farther corner. “I can get him, if you need?”

            Belle shook her head, “Uh, no, thanks. I should let you work.”

George Hill and Belle had a relationship that mostly involved some kissing on their days off when Belle was bored and felt she had nothing else to do. He had mentioned moving elsewhere together in a year or so, and Belle had cut him off so quickly he might’ve missed it if he blinked. She wasn’t looking for love. She certainly couldn’t love someone as selfish as he was, the way he preened over his own looks. He was just a time-waster, but it seems their wasted time had run out.

            Will winked at her, “All for the paychecks I send to my lady love.”

            Belle nodded, “Still planning a January wedding?”

            Whenever Belle and Will had interacted - mostly when he caught her in the gardens, or when she passed him in the servant’s dining area, he brought up his fiancee. Anastasia was living across the country, waiting on Will to return once they’d saved enough money for him to start his own flower growing business. The strength of their love was sweet to her, but Belle couldn’t truly relate to him, never fully empathizing with the lovestruck look in his eyes when he spoke of his lover. Her view on love had crumbled when her mother left her father after his gambling left them poor.

            “Ay, and you’re invited, of course,” Will said with a genuine smile.

            “I do believe I may be stuck here all of my days,” Belle said, holding a hand over her heart. She laughed then, and noticed the setting sun. “I should get to my room. See you later, Will.”

            When she returned to her room, her friend Ruby was waiting for her, flipping through one of her books. “Belle, this book doesn’t even seem to be written in English,” Ruby said, holding it up accusatively.

            “It is. It’s just old,” Belle said, snatching it away from her. After delicately placing it down on her shelf, she took her hair out from its bun, rolling her shoulders and trying to decompress from her busy week. Ruby had taken a seat on Belle’s bed, and Belle sat down next to her, placing her head on her shoulder.

            “Long week?” Ruby asked gently, rubbing her arm around Belle’s shoulders to try and help the obvious tension she was exhibiting.

            “Odd week,” Belle replied, and she was just about to tell Ruby about Mr. Gold when Ruby jumped in. “I heard Mr. Gold is leaving tomorrow morning. Did you know I’ve been assigned to cleaning his room for a week, but it seems he cleans it himself?”

            “Is that so?” Belle said absently, letting her heavy eyelids close as she readied herself for Ruby’s latest gossip. Her friend had a loose mouth, but she loved her dearly.

            “It’s like he doesn’t sleep. Or touch anything,” Ruby continued. “Almost like magic.”

            “Maybe he’s a vampire,” Belle mused dryly. She had never bought into the whispers of their “fearsome” guest, especially after meeting him.

            “Have you heard how he got that limp?” Ruby asked.

            “Can’t say I have,” Belle replied, and Ruby frowned. “Neither have I.”

            “Not our place to know,” Belle reminded her. “He is elite, and we are…”

            “The help,” Ruby finished flatly.

            They grew silent, Ruby still rubbing Belle’s back comfortingly. Belle could’ve fallen asleep, except for the short knock and loud opening of their door. The head housekeeper, a strict little woman named Frances Blanch, was staring at Belle with her usual expressionless grimace. “Ms. French, I do require your attention. Ms. Lucas, if you would excuse yourself.”

            Ruby looked between the two women, giving Belle a “tell-me-later” look and exiting the room. Belle realized her borrowed book was lying open on the shelf. Had someone told Ms. Blanch of her stealing? Had Mr. Gold turned her in? Did someone mention her wandering the garden?

            Ms. Blanch closed Belle’s door, staying at the door, an uncomfortable silence between them. “Ms. French,” she began, “It seems you have a job offer.”

            Belle’s eyes widened. “Beg your pardon, ma’am?”

            “Don’t sit there and look daft. Stand up, and follow me. And put your hair up. It looks unprofessional.”

            Belle obeyed, grabbing the ribbon she’d left on her bed and tying it up in the neatest bun she could manage in a moment, unwrinkling her uniform. Her mind was racing, and she could only picture one person who would offer her a job. Her senses felt overstimulated, after trying to wind down she was now quite wound up.

            She followed Ms. Blanch out quietly, and the woman kept silent, opening the door to one of the drawing rooms. She nodded at Belle, turned to leave, then awkwardly turned back. “You will be missed, Belle, if you go. You always worked well.”

            Belle thanked her, and from Ms. Blanch, that was as sincere a compliment she would receive. Her heart was warmed, and she took a deep breath, entering the drawing room. Belle’s suspicions were confirmed when she saw the figure of Mr. Gold looking closely at one of the portraits in the room. He turned when he heard her enter, a crocodile-esque smirk creeping onto his face.

            “Ms. French,” he said, “I have a proposition for you.”


	4. Journey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing says Winter Break like updating a fic after not touching it for over a year. I plotted out the rest of the story, and will try to update it as often as possible.

            Before she could even process the things being asked of her, Belle was in an unfamiliar carriage with an even less familiar man sitting across from her. The man who was now her employer. She’d dozed off early in the journey, having left at dawn after a night of packing. There weren’t many things Belle owned a few clothes for her days off, some journals left she’d saved after her mother’s death, a locket with her sister’s photo in it. But she’d had to say hurried goodbyes to Ruby and Will, abandoning the safety of her home at the Mansion to take up a job as housekeeper for William Gold.

            He’d smoothly offered her thrice her normal pay, and Belle was not a fool. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, watching him look out the window at the passing road. He’d told her his estate was almost a full day’s journey away, and she’d no way to predict how long she’d slept. Mr. Gold shifted, and she tried to glance away, but he caught her looking at him.

            “Good afternoon, Ms. French,” he said, a smile quirking at his lips.

            She nodded in return. He turned, reaching his hand into a bag she hadn’t noticed next to him. Rustling things around for a moment, he produced a novel, handing it over to her. Belle looked at it suspiciously, staring at the title. “You stole this,” she said plainly, but not handing it back.

            “Borrowed,” he said with a shrug, leaning back. “I simply noticed you had returned it, and figured you couldn’t have finished it within the few days since I caught you stealing it.”

            “I was _borrowing_ it,” she said quickly, biting her lip quickly. She’d have to learn to control her mouth around him, saying things without thinking could get her into trouble. Belle would be out of a job in an unfamiliar town if she became too mouthy.

            He smiled again, a strange look in his deep brown eyes. “I assure you, one day I will return to the Vanderbilt mansion, and I will put the book back in it’s place, though I promise you, nobody will notice it’s missing.”

            Belle nodded, looking at the book in her lap. “Thank you,” she said finally. “That was very thoughtful of you.”

            Mr. Gold merely looked back out the window, brushing off the comment. Belle slowly opened up the book, running her fingers down the old yellowed pages, sinking back in where she’d left off before she’d returned it. Hours must have passed, as it soon grew too dark to read. The carriage stopped, a driver soon opening the door. “Stretch your legs, sir, and miss,” he said. “We have to give the horses a break.”

            Her employer nodded, leaving the carriage before her and taking her hand to help her down. Belle looked around. They were on the outskirts of a town, she could see the lights in the distance. The horses were drinking from a watering trough, Mr. Gold and the driver of the carriage speaking to the side of her about a topic she knew nothing of. Suddenly, they heard the sound of horses and men approaching. Mr. Gold stepping in front of her - protectively, she realized, and she watched as the band of men approached, the one leading the herd climbing off his horse and approaching them.

            “What’re you doing on my land,” the tall man said, slurring his words, clearly drunk.

            “My apologies, Sheriff,” Mr. Gold said coolly, “Just letting the horses rest a bit.”

            The man - the sheriff, apparently, stepped forward, squinting. “William Gold!” he said. “Pleasure to see you again in this part of the woods.”

            “Just trying to go home,” he said, hands planted firmly on his cane.

            “I will forgive you for trespassing, sir,” the sheriff said, stepping closer to Gold and Belle, “for a night with your wench,” he continued, pointing at Belle. The men behind him leered at her, and Belle had never felt more violated in her life. She felt her jaw drop, her eyes darting to meet Mr. Gold, who looked enraged.

“She’s not - she’s not my wench,” her employer said.

            “An hour?” the man countered, and Belle felt every muscle in her body tense. She would not be sold like some kind of lady of the night to this drunkard.

            Mr. Gold raised his cane a bit, and Belle saw the sheriff flinch - muscle memory, she realized. What terrible things had Gold done to him before with that cane? Belle shuddered at the thoughts entering her brain. “My apologies - sir,” the Sheriff sputtered. “I wasn’t thinking, don’t know why I said that. Why don’t you and the lady get on your way, then, and we’ll forget this ever happened.”

            “It’s likely you won’t remember tonight, my good man,” Mr. Gold said, watching as the sheriff slunk back to his horse, motioning for his men to follow him as he rode into the night.

            Mr. Gold turned back to Belle, who felt her heartbeat slowly down the further the men got. “Are you okay?” he asked, and Belle nodded, speechless. He helped her back into the carriage, muttering to himself about the lack of properness and regard for the elite in this miserable town. “We’re almost to my house,” he assured her quietly, the driver calling to them that they were about to start making their way to the Gold household again.

            “Yes, sir,” Belle said, nodding again, turning to look out the window. She wondered what his history with the sheriff was, but dared not ask. He’d protected her well enough against him, and that had made her, against what may be her better judgment, start to trust him. The rest of the journey was smooth, and the next time one of them spoke, it was Mr. Gold telling her they’d reached his estate. Belle peered her head to look outside, seeing the vast garden they were driving through. It wasn’t nearly as big as the Vanderbilt’s home, but it was still impressive.

            “That’s where David and Mary Margaret live,” he said, as they passed a small house with a few lights on. “Mary Margaret keeps the kitchen, and David is a handy man. I’ll be hiring a new gardener soon, and you’re replacing Aurora, my old housekeeper, as I’ve told you.”

            Belle nodded, eyes wide as she admired the outside of his house. He helped her out of the carriage again, squinting as he looked at his home. It was rather large, and she felt overwhelmed that she’d tend to it all on her own. “It’s not as big as it looks,” Mr. Gold said, as if he could read her mind. “I’ll give you a tour tomorrow, when it’s not so late and I’m not so tired from travel.”

            Following him into the house, Belle marveled at the antique structure and decor of the home. He led her down stairs. “This,” he said, opening a door, “is where you’ll be living.”

            The room was at least four times the size of the room she shared with Ruby at her old job. She ran her hand along the wardrobe. “Oh, Mr. Gold…”

            “Don’t look so shocked, Ms. French,” he said, smiling quietly at her surprise. “I told you you’d be treated well here. But don’t get too caught up in this,” he said, waving his hands around the room. “There’s still work to be done.”

            “Of course,” Belle said, lifting her single suitcase onto the bed. “Thank you, Mr. Gold.”

            “I haven’t done a thing other than employ you,” he said, leaning against the doorframe.

            “You also stopped that man from… taking me,” she pointed out, and he grimaced.

            “Keith and I are not friends, nor do I approve of Nottingham continuing to elect him mayor. He’s a drunk fool more often than not, and I’m sorry you had to hear him say those crude things. It is in my best interest that you trust me. You are safe here, do you understand?”

Belle had never had someone speak to her this way. “I understand,” Belle said. “It’s late. Good night, Mr. Gold.”

            “Good night, Ms. French,” he said. “Breakfast will be at 8am tomorrow, up the stairs and to your left. I’ll give you the tour and further instruction then.”

            With that, he closed her door, and Belle unpacked her things, changing into her night clothes, and then fell into the bed, utterly worn out. The house creaked with strange noises, but she knew soon enough she would adjust to its nooks and crannies. This was her life now. She was protected. She was healthy. As she stared up at the ceiling, memorizing it’s strange, twisting pattern, she told herself she would make the best of her new situation, the same way she’d made the best of every situation she’d faced in the past.


	5. Tour

Belle was sure she arrived promptly to breakfast, greeted by a kind-faced woman with short, black hair. “Hello,” she said warmly as she set the table. “I’m Mary Margaret. You must be Belle.”

“I am,” Belle said, looking at the many chairs at the dining table.

“Sit wherever you like,” she instructed, “My husband should be here soon, and Mr. Gold is always a little late.”

Belle nodded, sitting at the chair she was standing in front of, looking at the fine silverware she’d likely be washing after this meal. “Mr. Gold doesn’t normally join us for breakfast,” Mary Margaret said, putting what looked like a tray of bacon down in the middle of table. “But it’s your first day with us, so he’ll be eating with us us. You’ll likely be eating with David and I most of the time, plus Daniel, and whoever the new gardener is.”

She smiled at Belle, and Belle decided she liked Mary Margaret. “Where do you come from, Belle?” Mary Margaret asked as she continued to place food on the table.

“I worked at the Vanderbilt mansion before this, as you likely know,” Belle said. “Before that, I was in university to become a teacher. I had to leave to support my father and sister after my mother died.”

The smile on Mary Margaret’s faced dimmed as she sat across from Belle at the table. “I’m sorry to hear that. But I’m glad you’re here. I like to think everything happens for a reason.”

Her new friend reached out, squeezing Belle’s hand, and Belle smiled at her. Just then, a tall, fair-haired man entered. “Good morning, Mary Margaret,” he said, his blue eyes twinkling as he tucked a dirty rag into his back pocket. “And good morning…”

“Belle,” Belle said, “I’m the new housekeeper.”

“I’m David,” he said, extending a hand for Belle to shake.

“I told you she’d be joining us this morning,” Mary Margaret said, smiling adoringly at her husband as he sat at the table next to her. It was clear to Belle that they were in love, and it was nice to see. Before she could further introduce herself to the couple, the door opened again, and another man, this one with dark hair, entered. It was the man who had driven the carriage last night, though Belle had never been introduced.

“There’s Daniel,” Mary Margaret said, “He tends to the stables and drives Mr. Gold’s carriage when needed.”

“I met him last night, though I never got his name,” Belle said, as he sat down next to her.

“Morning, ma’am,” he said, revealing a nice smile.

“Morning,” she returned, grateful that the door had opened and at last, Mr. Gold had joined them. She didn’t know how much more small talk she could make at this early hour.

“Good morning,” he said, a newspaper in one hand.

“Good morning,” they chorused back, and he sat at the head of the table.

“Was your first night here alright, Belle?” Mr. Gold asked, immediately giving her his attention. “Any issues with your room?”

“Oh, no,” Belle said. “It’s all fine.”

“Good,” he said, and Mary Margaret rose from the table, portioning everyone their biscuits with gravy. She poured water for the five of them, and then breakfast commenced. Belle found Mary Margaret’s cooking to be better than the food she’d had at her old job, but tried not to eat too much. It would do her no good to have an upset stomach on her first day.

The two women at the table were quiet as Mr. Gold, Daniel, and David discussed some problem with the faucets in the East bath. “How long have you worked here?” Belle asked, jumping Mary Margaret from her thoughts.

“Oh,” Mary Margaret said thoughtfully. “About four years.”

“So you know Mr. Gold well, then?”

“As well as we need too. He’s a good employer. We don’t want for much.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“I think you’ll like it here, Belle,” Mary Margaret said. “And we’ll be fast friends.”

Belle smiled. “I hope so.”

Their breakfast ended shortly after, and Mr. Gold took Belle out of the dining room and to a staircase. “I’m going to give you the tour, and explain what I expect of you,” he said. She followed him obediently, taking mental notes as they made their way through the home.

\---

If Belle was overwhelmed by his guidelines, she made no show of it. He’d taken her through his home, telling her what was her concern and what was not. He’d shown her where he kept cleaning supplies, asking her to dust the main hall and dining areas weekly. Then, they’d covered the bathroom’s upkeep, and the laundry that needed to be done. Belle simply nodded at all of his requests, speaking when spoken too.

“There’s one more thing,” he said, when they finished his tour, standing at the front porch and looking out at his front gardens.

“My room exits to a backyard garden,” he said, watching her head tilt with interest. “I must ask you never go there.”

He saw her fight her own want to question why. “Of course, sir,” she replied instead, keeping her curiosity at bay. It was for her own good that she did not know. “I’ll be on my way to work, then, if you no longer need me.”

“Thank you, Ms. French,” he said, and she curtsied, turning to go. “Let me know if you have any more questions.”

“And,” he said, after a small pause. Belle was opening the door, but turned back to look at him. “How _are_ you enjoying that book?”

She closed the door, giving him a funny look, but answering him nonetheless. “It’s very good, sir.”

He smirked. “The title did not interest me much. _Her Handsome Hero_. Sounds like a romance, filling your head with ideas.”

She shook her head, a smile in her eyes. “It’s not. It’s about compassion and bravery, being a hero.”

“Those are good qualities indeed, though I myself may prefer cunningness and self-reliance.”

“That sounds awfully lonely,” Belle said, then bit her lip. He could tell she was afraid she had misspoken.

“Maybe for some, Ms. French,” he said, smiling. “I’ve found I do better alone.”

She nodded, unsure of where to continue. “I should be going. Have a good afternoon, sir.”

“Oh, Ms. French,” he said, seeing her slight annoyance at being stopped again. “Jefferson Hatt will be arriving sometime this week. Make sure one of the spare rooms has sheets and the like. He will be our new gardener.”

“I look forward to meeting him, then.” Belle said, watching him expectantly, like she was waiting for him to continue.

“That’s all,” he said. “You’re free to go now.”

Belle nodded, giving a smile that did not reach her eyes. “See you at dinner, Mr. Gold.”

“See you then,” he said, turning back to his garden, wondering if it was time to take out the roses for some other flower. He’d have to get Jefferson’s opinion. Until then, he’d have to keep two steps behind Belle to make sure she was keeping everything in order and not getting into things not meant for her.


	6. Guests

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for having abandoned this fic for so long! I have written out the next two chapters and have written an outline for the rest of this fic. I promise it will be completed soon.

Belle fell into the ways of the Gold Estate rather quickly. Soon enough, her days were similar enough to the ones at the Vanderbilt Mansion. However, while there were many maids at her old job, she was the main and only housekeeper now. It kept her busy, so Belle didn’t mind the extra work, especially with the generous wages Mr. Gold was paying her.

One thing that was different about this position was her boss. While she rarely saw the actual Vanderbilt family (careful scheduling allowed for maids to clean without having to be seen or heard), she spoke to Mr. Gold every day unless he was away on business. Some days it was of household things, arrangements for dinner parties or special cleanings, but some days he would catch her in kitchen while she had a cup of tea. Though she had intended for her afternoon tea to be a relaxing break, she never minded when Mr. Gold chose to spend his free time with her. He was good with conversation, telling her of his travels and discussing the classic novels they both so enjoyed.

It was a warm morning, and Belle was hanging linens to dry when Jefferson approached. The man had joined their estate a few months ago, and Belle quite enjoyed his company. Jefferson kept the gardens looking well-groomed and beautiful, and Belle liked talking to him. However, Jefferson was a gossip, so she tried her best not to share too many personal details with him.

“The Mills’ carriage will arrive shortly,” he said, pair of gardening tools in hand. “The master just asked me to tell you.”

“I’ve set out sheets on the guest beds, but I’ll go to the front to await their arrival shortly,” Belle said, pinning another cloth shirt to the line.

Jefferson leaned on the post, watching her. “You do know Cora Mills once tried to court Gold, right?”

Belle sighed. “Why would I know that?”

He shook his head, perpetually dismayed with Belle’s lack of knowledge on the people around her. “They split, and she married Henry Mills a few months later. But rumor has it she wants one of her daughters to court Gold. They’re both of a marrying age and have no suitors.”

She felt her lips press into a thin, forced smile, bristling internally. “Well, the more the merrier.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

Belle shrugged, finishing her task and taking her laundry basket back into the house, leaving Jefferson to prune the rose bushes she was so fond of. She wasn’t sure why the idea of Gold courting had bothered her, but she told herself it was because she had adjusted to the dynamic of the five workers and one master. Soon enough, she heard horses approaching, and went to greet their visitors. They had guests before, and Belle had found each of them interesting in their own way.

Belle joined Mr. Gold, who was already waiting, at the front door to welcome the guests. Cora Mills held Mr. Gold’s hand far too long when he kissed it as a greeting, shaking hands stiffly with Henry Mills. Cora, an older, elegant looking woman in a dark blue gown, beamed as she introduced her daughters. “This is Zelena,” she said, introducing a tall, red-haired woman in a gaudy green gown that showed too much cleavage. “And this is her younger sister, Regina,” she continued, and a younger girl who more resembled her father curtsied in a red dress more suited to her.

“Belle will show you to your rooms, girls,” Mr. Gold said, heading inside with the Mills’ following behind. “She can give you the tour, as well, and I’ll take Cora and Henry for a drink after their long day of travel.”

Regina and Zelena mostly talked amongst themselves as they followed Belle around the estate. Regina was quieter, while Zelena had a loud, irritating voice. Belle did her best to answer her inane questions with a smile. After the tour, Belle turned away, and Regina tapped her shoulder. “Yes?” she said, expecting a question on where the closest washroom was.

“Did I see horses when we drove in?” she asked, a shy smile on her face. “I just love horses. Does Mr. Gold have a stable?”

Belle smiled back. “Yes,” she said. “I can take you there.”

Within minutes, Regina was admiring Mr. Gold’s horses. Daniel came around with a pile of hay, surprised at the visitor. “That dress is no place for a barn, madame,” he said with a laugh. 

“Oh!” Regina said, looking down, seemingly forgetting herself. “I did bring riding clothes,” she said shyly. “Maybe I could ride tomorrow?”

Belle noted the hope in her voice, and smiled to herself as Daniel agreed. They soon headed back to the estate, separating to wash up for dinner. Belle ate with Mary Margaret, David, Daniel, and Jefferson in the kitchen, while Mr. Gold ate in the fancier dining room that she’d set earlier in the day with the Mills’ family. Later that evening, Belle went to the ballroom to help the musicians who had just arrived set up. Cora had invited over a few local families for a “social”, and Belle now realized it was just a way to shove her daughters at Gold to dance. Belle noticed Regina was hanging out near a window, more interested in the sunset than the possible suitors. 

Jefferson was pouring champagne to anyone whose glass was empty, and Belle held a tray of finger sandwiches. It seemed like everyone was content for the time being, so they stood together at the back of the room, watching the elites interact.  “Regina hasn’t given Gold a second glance, and that’s angering her mother,” Jefferson said quietly, and Belle watched as Cora seemed to scold her younger daughter, while Gold spoke animatedly to Henry. 

“Zelena’s going in for it,” Jefferson said, continuing his narration of the evening. “She’s going to ask Gold to dance - and he’s said yes!”

Belle felt something clench in her stomach, tearing her eyes away from the pair dancing and looking down at the floor. “Belle,” Jefferson said, sounding surprised. “Was that a look of jealousy in your eyes?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, turning away from him. Her body was betraying her, her mind repeating _ “he should dance with me instead.” _

Her colleague gasped. “You  _ like _ him.”

“Jefferson,” she said, realizing she must sound desperate. “Please. I do not. And even if I did…” 

She shook her head. “Nothing would come from it. We’re from two different classes, practically two different worlds.”

He looked at her empathetically. “Your secret is safe with me, Belle.”

The rest of the evening passed rather uneventfully. Luckily, Gold only danced with Zelena to one song, and if Belle was reading the scene correctly, spent the rest of the evening avoiding her.  The next afternoon, Mr. Gold asked Belle to accompany him to the barn to get her opinion on what color to repaint it. The old wood was fading, and he wanted a second opinion on the paint to use. It took extra time for him to walk anywhere because of his limp and cane, but Belle never seemed to mind. They walked in silence, until Gold spoke. “The Mills are a bit much to handle, huh?”

Belle tried to conceal a laugh. “They’re fine,” she said, not letting her true thoughts reveal themselves.

She didn’t want to speak ill of the powerful family, especially if he wanted to court one of the daughters. He shook his head. “You can tell me how you really feel, Ms. French. I trust you.”

She felt the breath leave her chest at his sentiment, then rolled her eyes. “Cora obviously wants to marry off one of her daughters to you. Henry is a nice man, but forgotten amongst all his female relations. Regina seems sweet, but like she doesn’t really want to be here. Zelena is... obnoxious.”

He gave a hearty chuckle. “You don’t mince words, dear.”

Belle paused, worried she had overstepped. He shook his head, reaching to reassuringly touch her elbow. Her heart sped up, and she worried he may be able to hear it's thumping. They continued on their way after his brief touch. “I agree with you, on all accounts. I assure you, I have no interest in marrying a Mills’ girl. I danced with Zelena once, just to get it out of the way. I have no interest in romancing her. She’s quite too loud and rude.”

“As for Regina,” he began, entering the barn, then stopping in his tracks. Belle’s eyes widened as she took in what was happening. Regina and Daniel were passionately kissing, the morning horse-riding lesson Daniel had promised her seemingly long over. Mr. Gold coughed, and the two jumped apart.

“Mr. Gold…” Regina said, looking at the floor, cheeks burning red. “Please don’t tell my mother -”

Belle’s employer held up his hands, backing away. “I won’t impose, Ms. Mills,” he said. “I didn’t see anything.”

Belle couldn’t help but shake her head and laugh as they made their way back to their home. “That was unexpected,” she said.

“It certainly was,” Mr. Gold said. “Now I’ll have to make sure Daniel doesn’t do that to every young woman who passes through.”

“That doesn’t seem like him,” Belle said.

“I agree,” he replied, quiet for a moment. “I just fear her mother won’t like her falling for someone of a lower class.”

“Cora, being so self-absorbed? I couldn’t imagine,” Belle said, faking a gasp.

“And you’ve only known her hours,” Gold said. “I’ve known her for years, and she gets no better with age.”

“Then why do you associate with her?” Belle asked. It had been something she often wondered. Did rich people hang out with other rich people just because of their wealth?

He shifted as they entered the mansion, looking around to make sure nobody was listening. “Our families have known each other a very long time,” he said. “It would do more damage than good to cut ties, at this point. Henry’s work often aligns with mine. I work on railroads, he works in steel.”

“I understand,” Belle said.

Gold suddenly stopped moving forward, reaching to move a lost curl out of her face. She felt herself still as he tucked it behind her ear, smiling at her fondly. “I’m glad I have you here to confide in,” he said, though it seemed like he was speaking more to himself than her, bidding her farewell to return to entertain his unwanted guests.

“I’m glad, too,” she whispered to the now empty room.


	7. Ballroom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a mention of a character's death in this chapter.

 The Mills’ weeklong visit was one of the longest weeks of Belle’s life, but they were thankfully, finally, gone. Daniel quietly told her of a tearful goodbye with Regina after the family’s departure, promising he would be writing to her weekly. Belle had smiled sadly, wondering if Cora would even let the letters get to her daughter’s hands. Belle was sitting with her cup of tea in the kitchen, taking her afternoon break, secretly hoping Mr. Gold was going to join her. Indeed, a few minutes after she sat down, the door opened.

“Would you mind some company?” he asked. 

“Of course not,” Belle said, and he sat in the chair next to hers.

She noticed his outfit, black on black on black. “Are you in mourning?” she asked, trying not to be invasive, but curious nonetheless.

“Oh,” he said, reaching down and smoothing his black tie. “Today is a hard day for me, to be honest, Ms. French.”

Belle nodded, staring at his pain-etched face, and then looking at her cup of tea, swirling the spoon around. He took a deep breath. “Seven years ago today, my son Baeden died.”

She looked at him sharply. “You don’t have to share if you don’t want to.”

He shook his head. “I want to.”

Belle waited a moment for him to continue. “He was only twelve. My wife - my ex-wife and I did not have a happy marriage. It was an arranged marriage, and we were too young. Our son was the only good thing she ever gave me.”

“After thirteen years, I suppose she had had enough of me. She left me for a man who frequented the bar more than any other building in our small town. I found out, and was driving the carriage myself to go see her at his home, plead with her to stay. My son was in the back seat.”

She realized where this story was heading, seeing the tears fill in her employer’s eyes. She had never seen this vulnerable, sad side to him, though it explained some of the front he displayed, of being a powerful, strong man. “I was going too fast. I crashed into another carriage. I escaped with just my ankle injured, but my son…It’s my fault he’s gone.”

“Oh, Mr. Gold,” Belle said, tentatively reaching her hand out to cover his. When he didn’t reprimand her, she squeezed it. “I’m so sorry.”

“Time does not make the wound grow smaller,” he whispered, voice raspy with emotion. 

“I’m sure,” she said. 

“We were still fairly poor when he died. And what’s it all for, now? Just me? A lonely man in a house filled with rooms that cycle through people he doesn’t really like. I like my staff, of course,” he said quickly. “I wouldn’t employ people I dislike. It all just seems so pointless on a day like today.”

Belle nodded, speaking empathetically, “I think, maybe, you’re trying to fill your heart with things because you can’t have the person you want.”

He smiled at her sadly. “I think you’re spot on, Ms. French. I told you to never visit the garden that connects to my bedroom. He’s buried there.”

She gasped softly, watching his eyes fill with tears. He suddenly shook his head, moving his hand away from hers. “I need to go. I truly didn’t intend to tell you all of that, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said, but he was already gone. Belle felt a crushing feeling as she left, and it hit her.  _ She was falling for him, this broken man who believed he wasn’t worthy of love. She was falling for him despite all the factors in their relationship that would make an actual relationship impossible.  _ Belle took a deep breath. Perhaps she should consider writing to the Vanderbilt Estate and seeing if there was a need for maids. Her previous experience should practically guarantee her a place. Her heart wouldn’t have to be crushed when he inevitably remarried or refused her.

The next day, with thoughts of leaving the Gold Estate swirling in her head, Belle didn’t put as much effort into her duties as she could have. It wouldn’t matter, if she was leaving, anyway. The worst that could happen would be Gold refusing to send her last paycheck, but her family could recover from that. After lunch, Mary Margaret told her that Mr. Gold had asked for her presence in the ballroom. She was puzzled, as they didn’t often use that room unless there was company, but maybe she’d missed something the last time she had cleaned it.

If it wasn’t something too demanding that he needed, she intended to put in her two weeks notice to him. She was going to claim that the Vanderbilt estate was closer to her father and sister. It would be foolish to tell him she was leaving because of her budding feelings for him.

He was waiting for her on the couch, standing as she walked in. “Ms. French,” he said. “I’m glad you could join me.”

“Mr. Gold,” she said, curtsying slightly and looking at the machine he had set up on top of the piano.

He stood, opening the box. It revealed a disc shaped object with a pin on top. “It’s a music box, like the one I told you about from my trip up north.”

“Oh, Mr. Gold,” she said, taking a step closer and looking at the ornate design on the box. “This is so lovely.”

“You think so?” he said, seemingly pleased at her excitement. If he was still upset from their conversation the previous day, he wasn’t showing it.

“Do you want me to play it?” he asked, and he took her smile as an answer.

The music box produced a lovely, melodic tune that would have caused Belle to dance should she not be standing next to her boss. Glancing away from the music box, she realized Mr. Gold was standing directly in front of her, looking down at her. “Sir,” she said, voice breathy. This was far too close for him to be standing to her.

“Ms. French,” he said. “What would you say if I asked you to dance?”

“That would be improper, sir,” she said, avoiding his eye contact.

“But what if it wasn’t?”

She took a deep breath. “Then I would love to dance with you.”

“I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do,” he said. She appreciated him asking for her consent, not wanting her to feel obligated to him.

“I want to dance with you,” she said, trying to seem confident though inside feeling like she was melting. What was his game here?

He took one of her hands and in his, and placed it on his shoulder, and put one of his hands on her waist, and one hand held hers. They swayed to the music the way she’d seen couples dance to slow songs, even though this tune wasn’t slow. She studied his face, noticing his strong gaze on hers. She’d be remiss to not notice his handsomeness, to not notice the way he looked at her… But it had to be all in her head. She had no clue why Mr. Gold was doing this. She should tell him she was leaving.  Before she could get the words out, out the song was over, and they were left holding each other, simply speechless. “Ms. French,” he said quietly, “What would you say if I kissed you?”

His hand was now cupping her face, his soft brown eyes staring at hers as his thumb brushed over her lips. Belle felt completely electrified, tip-toeing up as he leaned down. Their lips met, and she was surprised at how gentle his kiss was. It only lasted but a moment, and when it ended, Belle said quietly, “I would say kissing me would be highly improper, Mr. Gold.”

“I must ask you to call me William,” he said.

She smiled at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, suddenly unafraid. “Please call me Belle.”

“Belle is a beautiful name,” he said, before kissing her again. Nothing about this encounter had gone the way Belle thought it would, but she had never been happier to be wrong.


	8. Letter

A month after their first kiss, things with Belle were going better than Gold had ever thought possible. She was thoughtful, intelligent, and had a hidden sarcastic temperament he was quite fond of. And she was beautiful, too. They had a less than traditional courtship - no announcement, no nothing, really, besides holding each other close while they talked about everything and nothing, and stealing kisses whenever they could. But still, he enjoyed the arrangement they had, even if it wasn’t normal.

There was no reason he shouldn’t marry her.  Except, of course, the opinions of other people. “Are you sure?” David said, sitting across his desk, facing him. Though Gold had tried to resist his easy charm, David had become one of his closest confidants over the years.

“Yes,” Gold said, glancing at the engagement ring again. “I don’t see why she would say no.”

David nodded. “I would just make sure her intentions are from the heart, and not due to the power or money marrying you would give her.”

“Do you really doubt her?”

His friend smiled. “Honestly? No. I’m happy for you two. But people will-”

“Talk,” Gold finished. “I know.”

Before they could continue the discussion, they heard raised voices - one clearly Belle’s. Gold stood up, getting in front of David as they headed towards the front of the house. Belle was standing in the doorway, arms crossed, visibly upset. She was arguing with the controversial doctor, Victor Whale, and clearly had no idea who he was.  _ “Oh no,”  _ Gold thought.  _ “He must not have gotten my letter cancelling our meeting.” _

“I am telling you, you are not expected today,” she said. “I can go ask William - Mr. Gold, and then I can let you in -”

“Learn your place, girl,” he said, pushing past her. “Your master is here, and he’ll tell you I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”

Victor stared at Gold expectantly, and he glanced over at Belle, her eyes flashing with hurt at the doctor’s insults. Gold knew he was stuck between insulting a colleague, and insulting the woman he was falling in love with. “Ms. French,” he said stiffly, “Dr. Whale is welcome for the day. You are excused.”

She opened her mouth as if to reply, then shook her head, rushing past him, and he felt his heart sink. He’d just embarassed her in front of a guest, a doctor no less, and he would surely have to talk to her later. “Women,” Whale muttered. “So emotional. It must be hard to find a good housekeeper.”

“Ms. French is an excellent housekeeper,” he replied, trying not to sound indignant. 

Whale turned to look at him, narrowing his eyes. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you cared for this woman.”

Gold tried to maintain his poker face. “As much as one can care for their employee, yes. Let’s move to my office to discuss what you’re here about.”

Once Victor had been dealt with and sent on his way back, now the owner of a picnic basket with a generous lunch from Mary Margaret, Gold looked for Belle. She wasn’t in the kitchen, or the stables, or visiting with Jefferson in the gardens. He caught Jefferson’s eye as the gardener inspected the bushes lining the front of the mansion. “Belle?” Gold asked, and Jefferson shrugged.

“I gave her the mail about a half hour ago,” he said. “She had a letter from home.”

Gold nodded, finding Belle’s room. Her door was closed, and he knocked gently. “Come in,” came her quiet voice. He stepped in slowly, not knowing what her temperament would be. She was sat on her bed, the letter from her family next to her, and it seemed like she may have been crying.

“Oh,” she said, realizing who it was. “Hello.”

“Belle,” he began. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it. It doesn’t even matter.”

He sat down next to her, giving enough space between them that they weren’t touching. “Of course it does matter, I upset you.”

She sighed, looking older than a girl her age should. Belle held up the letter. “Father gambled away the last check I sent. Lacey said she was sick, and they could hardly afford the medicine,” she said, finishing with a bitter laugh. “Why do I even  _ do _ this? The more I spend, the more he’s tempted to gamble. He’ll never change.”

“Ah, Belle,” he said, cautiously moving closer to her, putting his arm around her. She responded by leaning her head on his shoulder, snuggling into him. “I’m sorry about your father.”

“He hasn’t always been this way,” she said, a note in her voice pleading with her to believe him, which he did. “After mother died, I feel like… I feel like I lost him, and now he’s a shell of the man he was. He gambles all our money away, and the money he wins goes to alcohol.”

Belle shuddered. “What’s your sister like?” Gold asked, genuinely curious.

“She looks exactly like me,” Belle said, smiling for the first time he’d seen that day. “Lacey’s a real spitfire, never one to sit still for long. She’s been taking in people’s laundry to make money, but I fear she’s picking up the habit of drinking from Father.”

“I see,” he said.

Belle shifted. “So I went away to work and send them my wages instead of becoming a teacher like I planned, and I get nothing in return. No thanks, just a letter asking for more money.”

“Why don’t we invite them to live here?” he asked. 

She turned, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Truly?”

“Why not? I have the room, and you can keep an eye on them.”

“In all honesty, I’m not sure I could tolerate being that close to them,” Belle said with a laugh. “But maybe I could find a place in town? Where I can keep them at arm’s length but work with my father on his addictions.”

“If that’s what you want,” Gold said.

“I’ll think more on it,” Belle said, and they sat together in comfortable silence together. “Now, who in the world is Doctor Whale?”

He had to laugh at the way she narrowed her eyes. “It’s actually quite the story,” he said. “One I should have been honest about since we started our relationship. I’m a man with many secrets, Belle. Some would call me a difficult man to love.”

Belle moved, facing him, a confused look on her face. “What happened with the doctor?”

“It’s actually the reason I was visiting Vanderbilt,” he said. “I told you that my son had died. After his death, I became obsessed with resurrection. Whale was a man who claimed he could bring the dead back to life.”

Her mouth dropped. “That’s awful.”

“I know. And none of his efforts worked, obviously. After a couple months of attempts, he went away. Seven years passed, and I nearly forgot all about him. Until he came knocking on my door again,” Gold said, face darkening. “He’s extremely persuasive. Now, I knew it had been too long for my boy to be brought back, but he told me if I paid in, I could prevent others from feeling the kind of pain I still felt. Whale wanted Vanderbilt and I to fund a school for a new wave of modern doctors, ones who could bring back the dead. In a moment of temporary insanity, I agreed and tried to get Vanderbilt to help. Today, I told him it was a lost cause and to never contact me again. Resurrection is impossible, and only gives people false hope.”

They were both quiet for a moment, the whole tale laid bare. Belle blinked, reaching to cup his face with her hand. “That’s the whole truth, William?” she asked. “What made you send him away today? Why give up?”

“You,” he said. “You’ve grounded me, made me see the truth. I have to stop reaching for things that are never coming back, and focus on what’s in front of me. My family was ripped away, and I grew used to thinking myself a monster when I lived alone. But now I have you.”

She gave a sad smile, kissing him quickly. “Thank you for telling me,” Belle said, eyes twinkling. “But you don’t think there will be any more surprise visitors, right?”

“I doubt it,” he said.

“Good,” she smiled. 

“Belle,” he said, intertwining his fingers with hers. “Why don’t we just go ahead and say what we’re doing? Courting? I could put out the announcement if you want.”

Her eyes widened. “You don’t have to do that,” she said. “Everyone who lives here knows, I told my sister in my last letter… we don’t have to tell the world. I kind of like it being a secret.”

“I want to introduce you to my world, Belle, the business world, as an equal, not as a housekeeper,” Gold replied. And he meant it, wanting to give her the finest dresses and jewels and present her as his Lady. He would need to find a housekeeper to replace her soon. 

Belle bit her lip, and he could see her hesitate, then give in. “If it’s what you want, it’s fine. I guess it was going to happen sooner or later.”

“Excellent,” he said, kissing her temple.

She smiled up at him. “You know, I do like learning about the man behind ‘The Crocodile’.

“The Crocodile?” he asked, wrinkling his nose in confusion.

“That’s the nickname the maids had for you at the Vanderbilt,” she said with a shrug, moving off the bed and standing by the doorway. “I didn’t ask why. Come on, it’s almost dinner time.”

“Interesting,” Gold said, “Perhaps I’ll have to visit again and find out why.” He took her hand as they walked out the doorway, up to the kitchen to see what the Nolan’s had planned for the evening meal.


	9. Dinner

Belle’s twin, Lacey, and her father had been visiting the Gold estate often, now living just over twenty minutes away. Gold only took a few weeks to find them a new home and get them sorted, but they made frequent visits over to the mansion. Lacey and Belle were sitting in the garden, talking to Jefferson, when Gold found them.

“Belle, I need you to attend a dinner with tonight,” he said as he walked up to the table.

“Which one of us is Belle?” Lacey asked, raising an eyebrow and sitting up a bit straighter. Belle bit back a laugh. Her twin had been trying to confuse William since her arrival, but he’d yet to slip up. 

“Not you, Lacey,” Gold said with a wink. “Belle, can you be ready in two hours?”

She nodded, wondering what the event was. She put on a soft yellow gown he’d ordered for her that they were both fond of. Lacey watched, mesmerized, as she prepared for the evening. “Does he pay for everything?” Lacey asked, picking up an ivory hairbrush. 

Her twin shrugged, fixing her blush as she looked in the mirror. “Some of it, but I do have my own savings, you know.”

Lacey rolled her eyes. “Belle, so good at budgets and numbers and reading and  _ everything _ .”

Belle tutted. “Not everything. Can you help me button this up?” she asked.

Her twin obeyed, and they met Gold out near the carriage. “You look lovely,” he said with a smile, kissing her gently on the cheek. “Have a good evening, Lacey.”

“See you later, Mr. Gold,” Lacey said, before finding Daniel to ask for a ride back to her home.

“What is this dinner for?” Belle asked, looking out the carriage at the quickly passing roads.

Gold shifted. “Henry Mills’ birthday.” 

Belle turned to look at him quickly, wrinkling her nose, her disapproval clear. He laughed. “I knew you wouldn’t want to go if I told you in advanced.”

She sunk down in her gown. “You know I don’t like the Mills’ Family.”

“Yes, but I want to introduce you to them as my lady, not my housekeeper.”

Belle rolled her eyes, a growing feeling of dread in her stomach. The dinner was actually quite well-attended, and Zelena was entertained by an older gentleman with fading red hair for most of it. Belle did speak to Regina, who told her things were strained with her mother since she announced she wanted to marry for love, not title. When they were seated to eat, Belle watched her William do what he was good at, socialize with a sparkle in his eyes, making deals and promises.

Cora was flitting from table to table, and Belle stared at her onion soup as she made her way to their table. She didn’t really care to know what the vile woman had to say. “Mr. Gold,” Cora cooed right as Gold put his hand on top of Belle’s. “So lovely to see you tonight.”

“Wouldn’t miss one of your famous parties,” he said with a fake smile. “Do tell Henry I wish him a happy birthday.”

“Of course,” she said, oozing the same fake energy. “Now, who is this beautiful woman with you?”

Belle looked up, offering a closed-lip smile, ready for the judgemental look of surprise that had to be coming. Cora extended a hand. “I do not believe we have met, what’s your name?”

“Belle,” she replied slowly, shaking her hand. “We have met.”

Cora looked confused. “I think I would remember meeting the woman who has claimed William Gold’s attention,” she said with a short laugh. “What does your family do? Do I know your parents?”

Belle ground her teeth. “I used to work for William. As his housekeeper.”

Cora gasped, hand on her heart. “Oh, darling. I had no idea that was you, the help just blends in to me. You look so different now.”

“Glad you could make Belle’s acquaintance,” Gold said, saving Belle from a biting response. “Now, I think you have other tables to greet.”

Thankfully, Cora agreed, but Belle couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable due to her stares throughout the evening. She felt like everyone was whispering about her behind her back, but at least she was certain William only had eyes for her. He apologized for Cora on their way back home, and Belle just shook her head.

When he said his goodnight to her, he kissed her slowly. “Thank you for letting me show you off,” he whispered, hand on her cheek. “You are the most gorgeous girl in any room.”

“You flatter me,” Belle said, blushing. “And you’re welcome. But I don’t want to see Cora ever again.”

“That’s doable.”

-

If Gold were a less intelligent man, he might have mistaken Belle’s twin for her and caused some awful, awkward incident. Luckily, Lacey had different way of walking and talking, more showy than her sister, and had a mole on her right cheek that Belle did not have. Gold decided to ask to meet with her father, Maurice, a few days after Henry Mills’ birthday dinner, while Belle took Lacey shopping in town.

Maurice sat across from him in an overstuffed chair, looking uncomfortable. “Mr. Gold,” he said, lowering his eyes when Gold sat across from him, pouring a cup of tea for each of them.

“Mr. French,” he said. “Are you enjoying your new living situation? Is everything suitable?”

“Yes,” the other man said, taking a cautious sip of tea, as if he was scared it might be poisoned.

Gold shifted, slightly uncomfortable, but he knew Belle would appreciate what he was doing. “I do have a question for you.”

“I can’t pay you-,” Maurice said quickly, and Gold shook his head.

“I don’t need any money. I want your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

Maurice narrowed his eyes, confused. “Is she pregnant?”

Gold choked on his tea. “No, I assure you, she is not.”

“I guess… I don’t see why not. If she’s happy,” Maurice said with a nod, reaching for a flask from his pocket and taking a long sip of it. 

“Well, then,” Gold said, standing up and giving his future father-in-law one final look. He and Belle both suffered from poor upbringing, but they had at least found each other. Later that afternoon, he managed to separate Belle from her sister, taking her to the ballroom.

“What’s going on?” she asked, a smile growing on her face, and he supposed she knew already what was coming.

“Oh,” he said, trying to act like nothing important was going on. “I just wanted to tell you I’ve officially put out word for a new housekeeper.”

“Are you letting me go, Mr. Gold?” she asked, raising her eyebrows innocently.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her close. “There’s going to be a new Mrs. Gold,” he said, voice low. 

Belle pushed away from him a little. “That’s presumptuous, given you haven’t asked.”

“I asked for your father’s permission earlier,” he said, taking a step back and pulling the ring box out of his pocket. “Belle French, would you marry me?”

He was tackled with a rather excited hug, and a flurry of kisses on his face in-between “yes’s”. Once that was over, Belle ran to her bedroom, and he could hear the squealing between her and her sister from hallways away.

Three month later, invitations had been sent out to anyone who was anyone in Gold’s circle. Cora Mills sent back a swift “no”, though the invitation had been sent to Regina, and a three page letter on why Gold was making a huge mistake marrying below his rank, which was promptly thrown into the garbage after the couple had a good laugh about it. Belle and Gold went through the hiring process and decided on a woman named Wendy to be their new housekeeper. Belle’s old habits were hard to give up, so she often helped out around the house, regardless of Wendy telling her the future Lady of the house need not work. 

There was a wedding to be planned, and Belle and William were surprisingly relaxed through the whole ordeal, wanting to be married more than they wanted a frilly ceremony. They were just happy to be together, and Belle really didn’t care if the only people at the ceremony were Jefferson, Mary Margaret, Daniel, and Lacey, but William did insist they invite more people than that. 

When the long awaited day came, they held the ceremony in the rose garden, married by a local pastor named Archibald Hopper on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. Gold surprised Belle by having her friend from working at the Vanderbilt, Ruby, show up the day before. The Nolan’s served a delicious meal afterwards for the reception. From there, Belle and William boarded a ship, going across the ocean to see all the wonders Belle had only been able to read about. William wanted to give her what she deserved, and what she deserved was the whole world. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be an epilogue. I hope you have enjoyed this story. :)


	10. Library, Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find ourselves back where we began.

They were leaving the Nolan’s tavern when it hit Belle. “Everything’s changing,” she said quietly, hand on her swollen tummy as she walked to their carriage.

William looked down at her, a soft smile on his face. “I suppose. But change can be a good thing.”

After they’d returned from their three-month long honeymoon, Mary Margaret was sporting a baby bump of her own. With red cheeks, she explained they hadn’t planned the pregnancy, but William simply smiled and shook his head. They were elated for their friends, and William helped David with his finances, allowing them to stay on the property even though Mary Margaret wouldn’t return to work anytime soon. David had used his saved money to purchase a small tavern. It was hard work, especially with the new baby, but they seemed happy.

Belle found out she was pregnant herself shortly after their return from their honeymoon. She  _ knew  _ her upset stomach on the ship hadn’t just been sea-sickness. Her elevated hormones may have been the reason she burst into tears when she saw that in their absence, William had hired builders to renovate an empty room into a stunning library. “It’s too much,” she said, gasping as she looked around, books stuffed into every possible corner. 

“Nothing’s too much for you, my dear,” he replied, kissing her hand, and she again felt happier than she ever believed possible as she wiped away her happy tears. “I can’t help but think of our first meeting whenever I enter a library, and now we have our own.”

Belle couldn’t help but fall in love with the new library after that, moving a rocking chair in and spending her times knitting blankets and hats for their child when she wasn’t reading a new book. With their new hired help to replace the Nolan’s, and Wendy helping her turn a guest room into a nursery, Belle was beginning to realize just how much her life had been altered recently. It was all good, of course, and she was grateful, but still. If she’d even told herself two years ago what her life would be like now, she wouldn’t have believed it.

William was going through the tiny book they’d taken to bringing with them on rides. “What about Alice?” he said, and she shook her head.

“I keep telling you it’s a boy,” she laughed, and he narrowed his eyes.

“You can’t tell that,” he said, playfully annoyed. “Not from that old wives’ tale.”

“I just know,” Belle said, gently taking the name book from his hand. “What about Gabriel?”

He wrinkled his nose. She pursed her lips, eyes scanning down the list. “Oh, I like this one. Gideon.” 

“Gideon Gold,” William said softly.

“Gideon Gold,” she repeated. “I think he likes it,” she said, taking his hand and placing it on her tummy, watching her husband’s face changed as he felt their child kicking.

“I guess that’s approval,” he said. 

It was settled, and Gideon made his appearance to the world a month later. He was raised with all the love in the world, toddling through the great estate and making his mother and father laugh every day. Though they’d come from non-traditional roots, the Gold’s settled into a happy normal, their own fairytale ending. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this little story! I hope you enjoyed it. Sorry it took me so long to finish, but I hope it was worth it!


End file.
